


My World

by Midori_Fuse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bookshop Owner Harry Potter, Depression, Established Relationship, Ex-Auror Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant, St Mungo's Hospital, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midori_Fuse/pseuds/Midori_Fuse
Summary: Draco gets a call regarding a certain dark-haired idiot.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	My World

**Author's Note:**

> Angst isn't going to be the only thing I write, but MissDrarryDawn asked for angst so here it is. So, you can blame her for all the angst. 
> 
> Once again, thanks to the amazing MissDrarryDawn for Beta reading this for me. Thank you so much for your kind words and support. You're a superhero! Any remaining mistakes are my own. (I might've broken the soulless demon... You okay?)
> 
> I'm sort of new to tagging my own works, so if there is anything you think I should add, feel free to make suggestions in the comments. :)
> 
> A big thank you to those that read and liked my last fic. It meant a lot.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Draco’s head snapped up to the ringing Floo. Almost no one rang their house. It was warded so that only the Ministry, St Mungos, Hogwarts and a few friends could bypass the wards. They hadn’t always had the wards, but between the two of them it hadn’t stopped ringing with either fans, anti-fans - to put it lightly - or publicists. 

The wards had been added by the end of the first week. 

“Hello?”

“I’d like to speak to Mr. Draco Malfoy please,” the voice said as Draco’s heart clenched. There was never a good time for ‘Mr. Draco Malfoy’. It was never, ever anything good.

“Speaking, and you are?”

“I am one of the head doctors at St Mungos. I recall you are Mr. Potter’s emergency contact?” the voice half stated, half asked.

“What seems to be the issue?” Draco asked, voice becoming shakier by the second. _Calm down Draco, nerves will get you nowhere. No one will give you answers if you fall into a heap._

“I’m afraid there was… an accident. We would like you to come in-” Before the words had left the other man’s mouth, he had hung up, grabbed his coat and was in the Floo headed for St Mungos.

\----------------------------------------------

The nightmares were getting worse. 

For the life of him, what was left of it at least, Harry couldn’t seem to find a way out of whatever rut he had fallen into. He stayed at home mostly, first on sick-leave, then on annual leave, and then when that ran out, he quit altogether. 

He couldn’t find any sort of motivation to do anything. The days seemed long and tiring. He hated being in crowded places, but he hated being alone too. That was when the voices would start. 

He didn’t think it was schizophrenia. He had brought in a few cases as an Auror and it wasn’t like what he was going through. The voices, seemed to be… his own. One after the other telling him he wasn’t good enough; that no one loved him; that his parents had died in vain. They just kept going, and kept getting worse.

Of course, his actions had not gone unnoticed by his partner, but with the relatively simple explanation of trying to get away from the war and the Press, the subject was left neglected. 

Draco hadn’t really been focused lately anyway. His coworkers at St Mungos had been giving him a hard time due to his ex Death Eater status. He was trying so hard to earn his place, but some days he just came home and collapsed into a pile of tears on the inside of the door. Some days were just hard days.

Some days just sucked, and Harry, being Harry, always comforted his boyfriend. Harry listened to his complaints, found ways to cheer him up, cooked him his favourite meals. And just generally comforted him, and the talk of voices and depression was left for another day. It wasn’t the right time.

It was never the right time. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

“Where is he? What happened?” Draco’s panicked voice came out all in a rush as he ran from the Floo entrances, nearly knocking someone over as he ran. He wasn’t aware of when he had started crying, but he could taste the saltwater on his lips. A nurse, apparently waiting for his arrival, seemed unruffled by his outburst, unlike the rest of the reception staff. 

“Third floor, room 6. The doctor is waiting…” the voice trailed off. Okay, maybe the voice wasn’t trailing, but it didn’t matter. He was already running again. The doors passed by him in a blur, and when the elevator wouldn’t come quickly enough, he ran up the stairs instead. He barely had time to breath before he had burst out of the stairwell on to the third floor, and had bolted for the sixth room.

“Harry? Harry!” he shouted. Harry’s limp figure on the bed lying pale and still, even as Draco ran to it, his voice becoming more urgent as he went. The doctor, having gone unnoticed up until now, cleared his throat, drawing the blonde’s attention.

“Mr. Malfoy I presume?” he asked, and at Draco’s nod he continued. “Mr. Potter was hit with the Exanimationes Incidamus curse-”

“Depression? What? When-” Draco almost shouted, confusion overtaking his face. Harry was fine. Harry had been fine.

“-on his last mission.”

“But that was months ago,” he said, and despite the interruption, again, the doctor waited patiently for Draco’s thought process to run its course. Horror finally claimed his features, his hands moving to cover his face. “No… All the sick leave, and quitting… how did I not notice?”

“Someone found Mr. Potter at the bottom of a bridge. The official story is that he had a broom accident, but we suspect…” the doctor trailed off, seeing the pain and understanding flash through the other man’s eyes. “His wounds have been, or are, currently being healed. He will make a full physical recovery,” the man stated, and then paused. Merlin, Draco hated pauses. 

“The curse has been removed, but there are some side effects. Since he had it so long, some of the depression will no longer be fictional,” the doctor concluded, as Draco slumped down into one of the chairs. _Dear Merlin_. “The charms and healing spells will take their time to heal him. He should be awake in the next week or two. I’ll leave you to it- Oh and Mr. Malfoy? Would you like me to bring you all the necessary paperwork for annual leave?” 

He just nodded, still numb.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

\------------------------------------------------------

“Shhhh,” a voice hushed, from somewhere to his… left? Harry didn’t know. Directions were confusing. He blinked wearily, finally looking up at the nurse. He was at St Mungos? “Good morning sir. I’m just here to do a quick check-up,” she whispered, and then glanced down to his right, and smiled gently. “Best not to disturb him. He hasn’t been sleeping.” _What? Who-_

And then Harry saw him. 

The blond was leaning over Harry’s bed. Both hands over his. Hair messy, clothed as though he hadn’t changed in days, if Harry wasn’t mistaken, and looking far too malnourished for the raven’s liking. He didn’t hear the girl leave. His eyes found nothing else after landing on the sleeping boy. He didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky. Draco truly was an angel, even looking like a half-starved mess. His thoughts were interrupted when the hot mess spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Draco asked, its voice barely above a whisper, or maybe a wheeze. _Not asleep after all then._ Draco’s eyes were downcast, both hands still wrapped around Harry’s. “Why in Merlin’s name didn’t- I could have helped. I love you Harry. Do you have any idea?” he asked, voice quiet. Harry felt tears fall to his hand, clutched in Draco’s.

“I-”

“So, why, in Merlin’s name didn’t you tell me?” the blond shouted as his head snapped up to meet Harry’s eyes, his voice wavering between a scream and a plea.

“…I was going to,” Harry replied quietly, his eyes lowering as he spoke. “I really was, but it was never the right time. You were having a hard time at work…” he smiled weakly, mostly at his poor reasoning but also because of the memories of the two of them. The days they would spend together. Happy or sad, Draco was his. 

“I thought that maybe if I just kept on moving forward, if I kept going with life, things would turn out okay. Isn’t that what everyone always say? ‘It’ll get better in time’ and ‘time fixes everything’. I guess, I just wanted to be okay for you. I didn’t want to let you down.”

“You should have told me!”

“I wanted to, but with everything that’s been happening, with you being judged for your past-” Draco flinched, “-it was just never the right time. I wanted to be there to support you, and I would never want to be a burden-”

“You could never be a burden, not to me!” the other boy insisted, but Harry only smiled sadly.

“You haven’t seemed to notice, but the world doesn’t stop when you are having a bad day,” Harry continued, at which Draco looked indignant, but before he could interrupt Harry continued, “but I will do anything and everything in my power to stop my world for you. You are my world, Draco. You have been for a long time. It didn’t matter to me what was happening. My world needed me, and I need you. I need you like I need air to breathe. Everything else, just… falls away.”

“If that is even a little bit true, then you should also know that your ‘world’ would die without you. Don’t you dare take yourself away from me,” Draco sobbed.

Lips pressed against Harry’s, gentle at first before he pressed back, desperation and sorrow and love fuelling him. 

They had a _long_ way to go, but they would be okay. 

\-----------------------------------------------

It took a long time for Harry to go back to being himself. Months passed before Draco even thought about working again. Eventually though, at Harry’s insistence, he did, but Harry never returned to being an Auror. 

“Hey,” the blond said as he walked through the bookshop’s door, a bell chiming above his head. “Ready to go?”

“Yep, just let me wrap up this last order-” Harry started to say but was cut off by the sound of Draco’s laugh.

“My love, I don’t think that quite qualifies as ‘ready to go’,” he smiled, as Harry pouted. Draco’s grin just grew. “Take all the time you need, love. I’ll be over here when you finish up.” _I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me,_ went unsaid, but Draco knew he didn’t need to say it, Harry understood how deeply loved he was, even though it had taken a long time for him to realize that while he battled the lingering depressive side-effects of the curse. 

Not five minutes later a mop of curly brown hair surfaced above the top of the book Draco was reading, and with a smile and an offered hand, the two were off to their weekly lunch together. 

Harry never went back to the Aurors, but he found great comfort in printed pages, and in the books he sold. His bookshop was far from famous - though it might have been if he had told anyone he had bought a bookshop, besides Ron and Hermione - but it was comfortable, nestled in the outskirts of a small village about an hour from London. It was warm and safe, just the way he liked it. And with the added bonus of excellent company, it was just the way he loved it. And love him he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, Eva! I really am! (Mostly...) Please forgive me!
> 
> Make sure to be kind to yourselves and one another.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
